


She Owes Me Onigiri

by niteynyx



Series: Nitey's Commissions [31]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niteynyx/pseuds/niteynyx
Summary: Musashi and Ritsuka are ambushed late at night by Ashiya Douman and his forces, leading to a seemingly hopeless situation. Musashi sees a way to get Ritsuka out -- and ultimately, a gangbang and her virginity are a small price to pay for the onigiri that Ritsuka owes her. Anonymous commission.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka/Miyamoto Musashi | Saber, Miyamoto Musashi | Saber/Ashiya Douman | Alter Ego, Miyamoto Musashi | Saber/Henchmen
Series: Nitey's Commissions [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896736
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	She Owes Me Onigiri

_ How long have we been travelling together?  _ Miyamoto Musashi thought to herself as she looked at Ritsuka. The frown Musashi wore looked alien on her face. Though her lips were full and naturally pouty, they were almost always curved into a smile or grin; the only thing Musashi loved more than life or a good laugh was a good brawl, a thrilling challenge, a heart-pounding duel. 

But that was because of her swordsmanship, her incredible strength, her terrifying agility and dexterity. Nothing excited her like a fight, but she couldn’t remember ever  **losing** . The last time she lost was when she was a child, ganged up on by more children than she could possibly hope to take on at once. It was what encouraged her to train, to hone her skills and abilities to the point of being nigh peerless. At least, she thought she was peerless. Maybe she still was.

Maybe losing to an ambush didn’t really count as losing at all. Maybe. Either way, she wasn’t feeling great about the fight that she had just lost, even though it took dozens and dozens of soldiers to finally wear her down. She fought as hard and as savagely as she could, using every dirty trick she had up her sleeve, but it hadn’t been enough to protect Ritsuka.

She closed her blue eyes and drew in a soft breath, trying to make herself calm through sheer willpower, trying to replace the frown on her face with a new smile. The historically famous, albeit genderbent swordswoman slowly opened her eyes, her lips trembling as she tried to force courage into her heart and onto her expression. It wasn’t for herself. Ritsuka needed her to be strong, to be brave. Ritsuka depended on her.

_ It hasn’t been that long at all. _ Musashi would never forget the first time she met Fujimaru RItsuka, when she simply fell from the sky above the swordswoman while she was eating onigiri. In any other circumstances, Musashi probably would have been able to balance ‘saving the girl’ with ‘eating her delicious snack’, but the sky raining girls could certainly test anyone’s reflexes. By the time she had caught Ritsuka in her arms and set the mage down on her feet, her delicious lunch had fallen to the ground and became sullied beyond salvage. 

At the time, Musashi grinned and laughed off Ritsuka’s profuse apologies. “It’s fine,” she decided, already smitten with the beautiful redhead’s gorgeous looks and mannerisms. “You owe onigiri, though.” That was her excuse for travelling with Ritsuka. If she didn’t keep the mage safe, she would never get her onigiri. 

It was also why she made an excuse every time Ritsuka tried to pay her back or surprise her with another rice ball. She wanted to keep protecting Ritsuka, but she wasn’t ready to admit why. It wasn’t that she was afraid to tell Ritsuka that she loved her or anything like that, not at all. She just wanted to do it at the right time, the perfect time. The very end of their journey, perhaps. Something like that.

Musashi glanced to Ritsuka’s left, then to her right. She was being held up by two of the remaining Dark Warriors, still struggling against their grip even though she had to know she couldn’t escape them. Her hands were tightly bound behind her. That tenacity, that stubbornness, was something she loved about Ritsuka. Though the redhead’s face was pale with fear, her inner bravery shone through like a small sun. But even if she could escape, there were dozens around them, and all of Ritsuka’s servants were defeated. Only Musashi remained.

And Musashi was beaten, disarmed and on her knees. Her hands were tied behind her back with tight ropes at her wrists, but what really kept her restrained were the two Dark Warriors beside her, their crossed katanas threatening her vulnerable neck if she made any sudden movements. She closed her eyes again and drew in another slow breath. Even she couldn’t see a way out of this one. Not one that ended well for both her and Ritsuka, or even one that ended well for just Ritsuka.

If she could give her life to get Ritsuka out of there, she would in a heartbeat. There was still a chance such an opportunity would prevent itself. She opened her eyes again -- this time at the sound of sandals softly clapping against the tatami mats flooring the building they were being held inside. Someone new had just entered the room. Musashi resisted the urge to turn her head and look towards them, not wanting to accidentally cut her throat or give the Dark Warriors a reason to kill her on the spot. She had to be patient. She kept her breathing shallow.

The first thing she saw was his robe, all black and red and immediately calling to mind the fires of hell. Musashi flicked her gaze up. By its ceremonial cut and the hat on his head, she immediately recognized him as an onmyōji. Ashiya Douman himself. The swordswoman grit her teeth. For a moment, his cruel black eyes met hers and he smiled with a small, mocking curve to his lips, then turned away from her and towards Ritsuka. “This is the one?” he asked one of the Dark Warriors, lifting his arm and sliding his hand from his sleeve. No onmyōji should have had such blackened skin or claws. Ashiya Douman was more demon than man, if he had ever been a man at all.

The Warrior didn’t answer, but it didn’t need to. Douman didn’t bother waiting, reaching out to grab Ritsuka’s face by her jaw, tilting her face up towards him. “There’s no need to look so worried,” he murmured to the mage, obscuring Musashi’s view of her love with his back. “I have no intention of killing you if you cooperate.” That didn’t make the swordswoman feel any better about what was going on -- and by the way Ritsuka growled like a wounded animal, Musashi suspected she felt the same way. 

“Bastard,” Ritsuka spat out. Within the same second, the back of Douman’s hand lifted and cracked across her cheek in a harsh backhand slap, making her cry out in shock and surprise. Musashi immediately lurched forward, anger and worry rising like a nervous bubble in her belly, but the cold steel of the Dark Warrior’s katanas stopped her from going too far forward. She curled her fingers into tight, white-knuckled fists.

“You’ll mind your language, girl, and use your tongue with respect,” Douman told Ritsuka coldly, grabbing her jaw again and turning her face back towards him. “As I said, I have no intention of killing you. Your pretty face and delectable expressions are something I mean to enjoy for years to come. But if you prove too troublesome, I’ll simply give you to my men and let them decide what to do with you.” Musashi’s blood ran cold. Ritsuka didn’t reply, though hearing her labored breathing suggested to the swordswoman that her love was beginning to panic.

“You’re going to behave now, aren’t you?” Douman asked after a pregnant pause, simply staring into Ritsuka’s eyes. Musashi couldn’t see her close them, or how she swallowed the thick lump in her throat and slowly nodded, beginning to tremble -- knowing she needed to buy time. Time for Musashi to figure out a plan or for Chaldea to figure out a way to help them or --  _ something.  _ If that necessitated some humoring this monster of a man, that’s what she would do. It was what she had to do.

“Good,” he told her, gently patting Ritsuka’s cheek before taking a step back. His arm flicked out with sudden deadly speed, his sharp claws making a merciless assault on Ritsuka that had her shrieking out in alarm and flinching back as far as she could, not that it was far with the Dark Warriors standing sentinel.

“Ritsuka!” Musashi shouted, her eyes widening as she started to lurch forward again, but one of the Dark Warriors stomped down on her calf quickly. Another reached out and grabbed at her hair to yank her back. The harsh tug dislodged the comb holding her hair up and caused her long, pale blonde locks to spill down her back, messy and wild.

“Please, spare me the hysterics, both of you,” Douman said as he took a step aside and half-turned to look at Musashi. “I haven’t harmed a hair on her head.” True enough, there wasn’t any blood on his claws, or even a shorn lock of red hair. The pieces of Ritsuka’s shredded uniform drifted to the tatami mat; she was left in only her skirt and stockings, her bra barely clinging to her. It certainly stopped covering (let alone supporting) her perky breasts, which now heaved wildly with her hyperventilating breaths. 

“Don’t you dare touch her again, or I swear I’ll kill you,” Musashi snapped out, only further enraged by the sight.

Douman tilted his head and looked back towards Ritsuka’s body, openly assessing her like a fucktoy instead of a human. He casually dared to touch her, tapping the tip of the mage’s nose and then slowly sliding his finger down, his claw dragging a fading scratch on its way. He looked back towards Musashi as he cruelly pinched Ritsuka’s nipple, ignoring how she squealed in discomfort. “Will you?” he asked the swordswoman, smiling sadistically.

“Bastard,” Musashi whispered out, her own nails now making bloody scratches as she tightened her fists. “Stop this.” But of course Douman didn’t stop it, sliding his hand over to grab the fullness of Ritsuka’s breast and squeeze it, then testing its heft. He released it, then gave a short but sharp slap across her tit that made Ritsuka cry out. “Stop it! Please, let her go,” Musashi pleaded. For the moment, she forgot about trying to find a way out. She just needed Ritsuka to be safe.

“Why should I do something silly like that?” Douman wondered, seeming to grow bored of Ritsuka’s breasts despite their appreciable size and perkiness. Leaving her stiffening nipples, he began to drag his claw down her skin again, casually approaching the mage’s skirt. 

“She-- she doesn’t deserve this. You need to let her go, please,” Musashi begged with an increasing franticness, beginning to grow panicked as well at what might come next if Douman decided to shred Ritsuka’s skirt like he did the rest of her uniform. She was so young, so attractive, and worst of all so female in a room full of monstrous men. “I’ll do anything if you let her go, so please--”

“I’m sure you would,” Douman cut Musashi’s words off, his tone dismissive and disinterested. “But I rather like her. She looks innocent.” He made a motion to the Dark Warriors that had them lifting Ritsuka into the air. Another two grabbed her legs and spread them wide. Musashi’s heart pounded, and she found herself unable to look away from Ritsuka’s face. She was trembling, biting down hard on her bottom lip with her eyes wrenched tightly shut. “You, on the other hand, seem to have the body and attitude of a whore. If she’s not to my liking, perhaps she will join you in serving the rest of my men.”

He reached out and grabbed Ritsuka’s cute panties, simply ripping them off and revealing her cunt, its delicate and ladylike lips flushed with helpless arousal as her body betrayed her mind in one regard. She began to whimper. “Such strange clothing,” Douman muttered as he lifted them, staring at the little pink ribbons decorating the underwear. He balled them up and gave Ritsuka another short slap, making her gasp and giving Douman the second he needed to stuff the makeshift gag into her mouth, while making her taste her traitorous body’s arousal.

Suddenly, Musashi saw her way out -- not  _ her own _ , but Ritsuka’s. “I-I’m not,” she blurted out, straightening her back as much as she could in her circumstances. She hated what she was about to say next, but didn’t shy away from it. Even though she had not known Ritsuka for very long, Musashi would do anything to keep her safe. Everyone told her that she fell in love far too easily, but Musashi didn’t see it as a bad thing. What would life be without love, after all?

“I’m not a whore! I’m a maiden, a virgin. She-- if you let her go, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t even resist. I’ll obey, just let Ritsuka go. Please,” she pleaded. Douman glanced over his shoulder at her, his former disinterest in Musashi now replaced with a clearly piqued curiosity. He stepped away from Ritsuka, the Dark Warriors continuing to hold her up, her tight and wet little pussy blatantly exposed for anyone in the room to look at while the woman squirmed fitfully.

“Is that true?” Douman asked as he stopped before Musashi, looking down at her with his soulless eyes. “You’ve slept with neither man nor woman, and still possess proof of your maidenhood?” the monster asked her. He gave a brief glance to the Dark Warriors holding katanas to her neck and clutching her hair, then made a motion. The latter released her hair, while the former two lowered their blades. With practiced grace, she rose fluidly from her knees to her feet. He took a step closer to her.

Without her heeled boots on, Musashi barely hit five foot four. It was an average height for a woman from Ritsuka’s era, but in  _ that _ era, she was on the taller side for a woman. Douma was over a foot taller than her, necessitating the swordswoman crane her neck back uncomfortably to look him in the eye. “Yes,” she whispered. “I swear it on my sword.”

Douman laughed, a humourless little chuckle fueled only by malice. “Fine,” he said, reaching down to the sash that held Musashi’s kimono shut. “So be it. I’ll give you one night to prove your candor,” he continued, peeling the sash away from her body with far more gentleness and consideration than he cared to give Ritsuka’s clothing. It was all Musashi could do not to flinch away from him in spite of that, keeping her face brave and her spine straight. If it truly meant getting Ritsuka out of here, she would do anything for this monster. Her own escape could come later.

“But she’ll stay here for this night,” Douman said as he dropped the sash casually, loosening Musashi’s kimono and causing it to fall slightly open, revealing the first glimpses of her fair white skin and the bandages taping down her breasts. In spite of her athleticism and all her training, her tits were an impressive size for a Japanese woman of her age, larger than what any house wife might be sporting. With a soft scoff, Douman flicked one of his clawed fingers and cut them open, letting the buoyant breasts spill free of their confine, still hidden by the drape of her purple silk.

Musashi winced, expecting the claws to cut her flesh but staying as still as she could. She had to, until she was sure that Ritsuka would be safe. “Why?” the blonde asked tersely, ready to argue, but still cognizant of her position and what basket she was putting all her hopes in.

“As collateral. She’ll stay here. She’ll watch you. And if I decide you’ve lied to me,” Douman said, his voice lowering dangerously as he leaned down, having to stoop to put his face all but an inch away from hers. “Then I’ll give you to my men to do what they please, but you’ll have to watch every moment of me breaking her in.” He paused, letting those words hang heavy in the air between them before speaking again, delicately enunciating each syllable as though Musashi were made of porcelain. “Do you understand? Do you accept?”

The blue-eyed swordswoman clenched her jaw. She was sure Douman was only insisting on that to rub salt in her wounded pride, but there was nothing she could but accept the terms before her. “If I have your word that you’ll let her go after tonight… yes,” she said, her first handful of words spoken strong and firm but that last syllable all but whispered out. “Yes, I accept.”

She was able to stay strong right up until the weight of it all hit her. Swallowing, she glanced down and away from Douman. After saving herself for when she found her one true love, she was about to lose her virginity to this monster. At least it would be for the sake of a woman she loved. At least it wouldn’t all be in vain.

Douman smiled his cruel little smile, reaching down to grab Musashi by the jaw and tilt her face up to his, just like he did to Ritsuka minutes before. “Very well,” he said quietly. “But first, tell me one more thing. Why trade yourself for her?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with the sadistic pleasure he was taking from her clear discomfort. “Who is this woman to you, Miyamoto Musashi?”

_ Do I really have to say it? _ Musashi glared at Douman the moment their gazes met again, then swallowed roughly. Briefly, she flicked her eyes past him to Ritsuka, who was staring at the swordswoman with wide eyes and fervently shaking her head. Her hard-beating heart slowed and warmed with love at the sight of the redhead, just as worried for Musashi’s safety as Musashi was for hers. The swordswoman forced herself to smile for Ritsuka’s sake and spoke her next words more loudly, making sure she could hear every single syllable. “She… owes me onigiri,” she told Douman, her cheeks growing red.

Tears glistened in Ritsuka’s eyes right before she squeezed them shut. 

The cruelty, the sadistic pleasure, the sheer needless malice in Douman’s expression all slid away at Musashi’s words. He stared at her for several seconds before frankly concluding, “That has to be the single stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a woman’s mouth.” His other hand reached down and shifted Musashi’s kimono open, finally revealing more than just the shape of her breasts. Her nipples began to harden the moment the cool air began to lick at them, always far too sensitive for Musashi’s liking. He glanced down at them, lifting a clawed fingertip to circle her areolae. 

Douman smiled again as the pink peak pebbled. “At least I can see why,” he said, his amusement returning. “These must be your compensation for having a soybean-sized brain,” he told her, sliding his hand down and grabbing her tit from below, more than an ample handful even for a man his size. “And they’re the perfect size for a whore. It’s hard to believe a woman with such a lewd body could still be a virgin.”

“W-well,” Musashi began to instinctively snap back, her mounting embarrassment lighting a little fire in her before her brain could catch up. “I am, so--”

Whatever other words she meant to say were quickly cut off by Douman suddenly leaning down, covering his mouth with her own. Musashi’s eyes flared wide open in her shock and surprise as his tongue invaded her mouth. She barely reacted as he kicked off her violation, tongue attacking hers roughly and laying a permanent claim to it. With the hot wind taken out of her sails, she was barely a participant to her first ever kiss, taken right before Ritsuka’s eyes. 

Her only real reaction came when he slapped her, down across her tit, and made her yelp girlishly, almost jumping in place. Douman chuckled as he leaned away from her, smiling and sneering down at her at once. “Perhaps you really are a virgin. If you were truly a whore, you’d know how to kiss back and you’d do it without even thinking about it.” He shook his head, giving her breast another harsh slap that once more made her yelp, a mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through her body after both strikes. “But perhaps you’ve only kissed cock before. Hm?”

“You bas--” Musashi started to hiss, but this time she caught herself. She swallowed and swallowed again, trying to get the taste of him off her tongue but somehow knowing her tongue was going to feel filthy for a long, long time after this. As he resumed fondling her breast, she clenched her teeth and whispered her response. “I’ve never kissed a man’s penis before,” she told him.

He slapped her tit one more time then grabbed at her kimono and began to tear it away from her body with his freakish strength, tossing piece after piece of the red and purple silk to the tatami mats beneath them. “Cock,” he corrected. “You’re a woman, not a child -- and soon, you’ll be nothing but a bitch. I won’t hear such juvenile language from my bitch’s mouth,” he concluded, just as he finished ripping the last shred of her kimono off, leaving Musashi all but naked in her stockings and loincloth. 

A second and one slash of his claws later, the loincloth fell away too. “Say it,” Douman ordered the increasingly flustered swordswoman. He slid his foot between her black-clad feet then turned it, making her briefly stumble as she widened her stance, standing with her legs apart rather than tight together. His hand darted down and tugged on the short, trimmed hairs guarding her cunt. As Musashi hissed in increasingly embarrassed irritation, he spoke again. “Say it and tell me what I’m about to shove my finger in,” he growled.

Musashi stiffened, closing her eyes and drawing in a sharp breath. She had to go through with this; she reminded herself it was all for Ritsuka. “Cock,” she whispered. He released her jaw and immediately slapped her tit again, making her yelp and jolt. Without being instructed, she understood exactly what she did wrong. “Cock,” she said more loudly, more clearly. Hoping it would spare her some discomfort, she swallowed her embarrassment and pride. “A--and my pussy,” she said just as loudly.

The exact prompt for that --  _ what I’m about to shove my finger in  _ \-- didn’t click until she felt two of his fingers penetrate her pussy, its tight confines made wet from her body’s natural reactions to everything that had happened to her thus far. She tried to bite back her moan, teeth sinking into her full bottom lip, and tried to distract herself from the pleasure it heaped on top of her, closing her eyes.

She tried to imagine it was Ritsuka’s fingers, but it was impossible to ignore how long and thick his powerful digits were compared to hers. And those  _ claws _ were a far cry from Ritsuka’s short, trimmed fingernails. They were only in her for a moment before they peeled out. Douman chuckled to himself as he lifted them and eyed just how well-coated they were after seconds inside of her. “You’re certainly as wet as a whore,” he taunted her.

Musashi opened her eyes and released her bottom lip from the cruel bite, glaring at Douman. “I told you, I’m not a--” she  _ tried _ to say, but once again Douman quieted her protests with another swift violation of her mouth. He filled her mouth with his fingers and pressed them down on her tongue, making her taste herself. She cringed. It only lasted a moment, and she couldn’t help but cough when his hand drew back. 

“It’s about time we put an end to your sauciness,” Douman said, taking a step back and to the side before motioning to the Dark Warriors still behind Musashi. They shoved her forward and towards Ritsuka, who was still held up in the air with her thighs spread and her cunt shamefully exposed for everyone in the room to see. Even though Douman had left her alone for several minutes, her cunt was still flushed and swollen with her arousal, practically dripping wet.

The gagged redhead opened her tearing eyes and looked down at Musashi. The blonde didn’t even give her exposed cunt a glance, just looking back into her eyes and mustering up her bravest smile. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered to Ritsuka, wishing her hands weren’t still bound so she could reach out and give her a reassuring squeeze. In response, Ritsuka closed her eyes and made a noise, her body shaking as though she were laughing in delirium.

Musashi shuddered when she felt Douman touch the small of her back, just over her ass. “Rather wretched of you to be hiding this, my little blonde bitch,” he observed as his fingers slid down, grabbing it. It was true that the swordswoman had a fantastic rack for a Japanese woman, but her bubble of an ass easily floored it. She bit down on her bottom lip again and grunted as he slapped it several times in quick succession, each blow raising her to the tip of her toes. They only worsened her horniness. “I thought you were a warrior, but you must spend a great deal of your time knocked down on this,” he told her before finally leaving her ass alone.

This time, she didn’t try to retort. She knew exactly what would happen if she did. He slid his fingers up her back, right along her spine, making Musashi shiver as goosebumps raised on her skin. When his hand was between her shoulder blades, he pushed her down until she began to bend at the waist. It wasn’t a comfortable position and she had to thrust her ass out to balance, but with her natural flexibility she could maintain it. He didn’t stop until her torso was all but horizontal, her face just bare inches away from Ritsuka, but of course that wasn’t to say bare inches away from Ritsuka’s  _ face. _

Musashi’s stomach sank. “What are you doing?” she asked Douman quietly, already knowing the answer but hoping he would prove her wrong. She couldn’t help but stare at Ritsuka’s cunt now, her face going beet red. Douman didn’t answer her. The swordswoman began to look up to make sure Ritsuka was okay, but as she started to crane her neck, the sadistic bastard behind her grabbed her head by the hair, close to her scalp, and shoved her face forward.

“Be a good bitch and entertain our guest,” Douman ordered Musashi, once again slapping her ass. “We don’t want her getting bored during this, do we?” She wanted to argue again, but between his hand refusing to let her head up and his slap jolting her whole body forward, her lips were practically kissing the lips of Ritsuka’s cunt already. 

Closing her eyes and praying to all the kami that Ritsuka wouldn’t hate her for this, she opened her mouth and began to lick at her cunt. It was her first time. For all her grace with a sword, she felt terribly clumsy with her tongue, but she had one advantage. Being a woman herself and no stranger to getting herself off, she knew exactly where her tongue needed to go. 

The way Ritsuka moaned as Musashi began to tease her clit with the tip of her tongue encouraged her to keep going, far more than anything Douman could have said. With her eyes closed, she could just focus on this and the simple taste of Ritsuka. It was the perfect little reprieve from the crushing reality around her. She could ignore things like the sound of Douman removing his robe with one hand and dropping it to the floor. She could ignore him commenting on how much she seemed to be enjoying Ritsuka’s cunt and his cruel quips. Really, she blocked Douman out altogether and found herself finally relaxing.

Which, of course, was the exact moment that Douman was waiting for behind Musashi. His cock was already lined up with her virgin cunt, held back just far enough that she couldn’t feel him. With her ass thrust out for balance, both of her holes were left wide open for him. Now that she was relaxed and finally found some peace, he took advantage of it. Giving someone a little hope always made crushing them far more tantalizing. In one thrust, he pushed his cock right into her wet snatch, not just deflowering her but impaling her balls deep in an instant.

For Musashi, there was only one possible reaction to the sudden penetration. She screamed in surprise as Douman sent her crashing back down to reality, caught off guard by the sharp pain that shot through her body. He put a quick end to her shout by shoving her face right into Ritsuka’s waiting cunt, muffling Musashi’s wail. The redhead tried to jerk her hips back, but the Dark Warriors holding her kept from moving anywhere.

_ Oh, fuck.  _ That was it. Years of waiting and in an instant, Musashi was robbed of her virginity. Having a cock inside of her felt far different than she ever would have expected it to. She felt almost uncomfortably filled by Douman’s cock, easily stretching her out and making her toes curl. She was humiliated to lose it like this, in front of so many people, but the worst part was how good it felt. Was she getting off on being treated so poorly, so roughly?

_ There’s no way, _ Musashi told herself, even as Douman practically smeared Musashi’s beautiful face all over Ritsuka’s cunt. The poor redhead had been approaching orgasm, but there was a stark difference between having Musashi’s long tongue focused on her clit and just having Musashi’s face mashed against her cunt. She whined through her gag and flexed her hips, subconscious and needy, as though it might get her what she wanted. 

“I suppose you really are a virgin,” Douman mused as he slid his cock back out of Musashi’s wet hole, briefly studying the blood her hymen left on his cock before slamming himself back inside of her. “Not that it matters now. Now,” he growled, slapping her ass and sinking his fingers into it, holding it tightly as he began to fuck her snatch with rough thrusts, each one rocking her body forward. “Now you’re just a bitch.” He reaffirmed his grip in her hair and dragged Musashi away from Ritsuka, glancing at one of his Dark Warriors and inviting him closer with an uptick the swordswoman couldn’t possibly see.

“P-please,” Musashi whined out once she was allowed a voice again, though she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. Did she want him to stop? Did she want him to show mercy? Did she want to be allowed to bury her face in Ritsuka’s cunt once more? Did any of that even matter anymore? “Please, just-- oh, fuck,” she groaned, waddling and stumbling under Douman’s guidance as he both repositioned her and brutally fucked her sodden pussy. 

“You heard the bitch,” Douman told the Dark Warrior he had beckoned over. “She’s begging for it. Give her something to keep her busy.”  _ Begging…? _ Musashi thought woozily to herself, opening her eyes and looking up. The Dark Warrior had already removed his armor and now stood before her, his hard and ready cock in hand. Her face had never been so close to a man’s cock before, and its appearance plus its sheer size had her pretty lips parting in muted surprise.

Then another one of Douman’s thrusts hit home, pressing up against a spot in Musashi’s cunt that made her all but quiver in pleasure. As her eyes glazed over, her mouth opened wider to let out a moan straining between discomfort and lewdity, and in that moment the Dark Warrior struck. He rammed his cock right into her mouth and forced himself into her throat against its desperate resistance, grabbing the sides of her head to give him the leverage he needed. Though she yelped and squirmed, he ignored her clear discontent.

Despite that, there was a silver lining for Musashi. The Dark Warrior’s cock did what Ritsuka’s cunt couldn’t, finally ridding the taste of Douman’s fingers from her poor tongue. Not that she found the dick testing her gag reflex to be any better, but at least it wasn’t Douman. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore what was happening to her, but it was hard to ignore the cock hammering away at her pussy. The men busily spit roasting her had Musashi swaying back and forth with each of their thrusts.

It wasn’t just hard to ignore, it was impossible. Even as they made free use of her throat, she felt a building pressure in her cunt. Virgin or not, Musashi was well acquainted with her own body and could feel the encroaching orgasm. She groaned around the cock in her throat as her knees began to shake, her toes curling as her hips squirmed. Try as she might, not that she could make herself try that hard, Musashi knew she would cum soon. She knew her cunt would squeeze Douman’s cock for all it was worth. It didn’t help when he slapped her bubbly ass twice more, sending shocks through her body.

Then all of sudden, her pussy was left noticeably empty as Douman pulled out. Musashi’s first reflex was to try and look over her shoulder at him, but that was impossible through her face-fucking. Her eyes flared open for a moment, then squeezed shut again. She was  _ so fucking close _ that she actually regretted the loss of Douman’s cock, when she knew she should have been happy for it. Then the Dark Warrior all but forced her lips to kiss his pelvis, her nose tickled by his pubes. Her eyes went wide with surprise as he coated her throat with shot after shot of cum.

Seconds later she screamed out in surprise, her tightening throat squeezing all the more out of him. Suddenly she was full again, albeit in a  _ very _ different way. Douman treated her ass no differently than her pussy, taking another virginity from Musashi in a single thrust. His cock was left well-lubed from her cunt, slick enough that he could force his entry into the far tighter hole. He raised his hand and slapped her reddened ass again and again as he plowed her, giving the swordswoman little time to adjust, each thrust clapping his balls against her wet cunt.

Her ass fucking  _ burned _ . She needed that time to adjust, and she needed it desperately. Helplessly stuck between the two cocks impaling her, she raised up on her toes as though she might get away from her surprise sodomy. But if there was one thing Musashi wasn’t getting away from, it was the return of her briefly mourned orgasm. Shame colored her cheeks a far darker red and clouded her mind. She could forgive her body for cumming on his cock in her pussy, but to cum from getting her ass fucked? 

Was she really that much of a slut? Was Douman right about her? Did she become his bitch that easily? Her mind grew hazy, her wild lust and years of denying her womanly wants and needs blurring the lines between pain and pleasure. She saved herself for so long, sure she would meet the right person to give her virginity to one day. That person surely wasn’t Douman, but he made her into a wanton whore so  _ easily  _ that she couldn’t help but question why she denied herself for so long.

The pressure in Musashi built, the walls of her pussy hungrily working and spasming as though a cock might return to her cunt at any moment. She barely noticed the cock in her throat pull out, only to be quickly replaced by another Dark Warrior’s thick dick. Her thoughts had long since stopped being coherent; her normally agile mind devolved into a jumble of chaos, torn between the pleasure she felt and her last clear thoughts:  _ This is for Ritsuka. I love Ritsuka. I need to do this for Ritsuka. _

There was nothing special about the thrust that finally tipped Musashi over the edge. It was just one in a series of many painfully pounding thrusts into her ass, with zero thought given to her enjoyment or comfort. Douman was using her like a cocksleeve, so focused on using her that he no longer taunted or jeered her. She was never going to forgive her body for this betrayal, and then -- over the edge she went, moaning whorishly around the cock obstructing her airway as spasms ran through her body. 

It was  _ incredible _ , a far better orgasm than any she had ever wrought with her own fingers. Envious, those digits curled helplessly and dug at her palms, drawing small bloody scratches across her palms. Her toes curled hard enough that for the moment, they felt like they would never unlock from their new position. Though her knees buckled and her legs shook helplessly, the two men fucking her kept her upright without any extra effort on their part. 

The pleasure seared through her mind, white hot and far fiercer than any pain she had felt before. Musashi’s pussy pulsed desperately, upset it was empty but unable to complain with the results bagged by her ass. Her devilishly tight sphincter squeezed Douman, and then squeezed him even tighter when he gave Musashi another harsh slap across her ass. If her pussy was envious of her ass getting all the cock, it was far more jealous of the hot load of cum that Douman shot inside Musashi’s ass. The amount felt endless, inhuman. Her lovely blue eyes opened again, completely glazed over.

It hit just when she thought her orgasm had run its course, right when she was beginning to feel clear-headed again. The hot splashes inside of her only served to set her off again. She cried out hoarsely, muffled by the cock filling her mouth, and trembled wildly, unaware until that very moment of a woman’s ability to cum multiple times over. Not that she was thinking anymore clearly after her second orgasm. It left her mind cloudy, fuzzy.

“What a fine bitch,” Douman sighed as he began to pull himself free of her ass, slapping its bubbly cheeks one more time before extracting himself. With adrenaline and a cum-high fueling her, Musashi didn’t feel just how raw and sore he left her. At the very least, she’d be sleeping on her belly for the next week, bare-bottomed until her sweet tush had time it needed to recover. He took a step back, still gripping her long blonde hair, and gazed down at her winking asshole as his cum leaked out of it. “Virgin or not, she’s certainly a whore,” he mused, before looking over the Dark Warriors in the room. “Wouldn’t you all agree?”

They all did, with nods and growls and jeering words. The one still in Musashi’s throat perhaps agreed most of all, grunting his victory as he pulled his cock’s crown back to her mouth, painting it in his hot white mess. She gulped it down without thinking, panting hard as he left her altogether, unaware of the tears running down her cheeks from the strain of getting used and abused.

“Far be it for me to keep you from enjoying her as well,” Douman said, slashing his claws out one more time to cut away the ropes binding Musashi’s wrists together. Before she could adjust her balance, he released her hair, the last thing reminding her trembling body it should remain standing. She sank to her knees with a soft groan, only keeping her body from slumping over by pressing her palms to the tatami mat beneath her. “Enjoy her. I think I’ll take some alone time with Onigiri-chan,” the bastard said, drifting away.

Being reminded of onigiri snapped Musashi’s mind into focus, if only briefly. As the Dark Warriors closed in around her, the swordswoman glanced up and towards Ritsuka. She had been dropped to the floor at some point, sitting on the mats in an awkward heap. Her eyes wide, she started to squirm away from Douman as he approached her. That was the last glance Musashi had of her that night before the circle of Dark Warriors blocked her sight. “Wait,” she called out hoarsely. “Our deal--”

“--is intact, for the moment. You have more pressing matters to deal with,” Douman replied with cruel amusement in his voice. Musashi looked up a bit higher, then around her, her eyes growing wider and wider. Each of the Dark Warriors that surrounded her had already taken off their clothes, their huge cocks hardening if they weren’t already prepared to take their turn with the blonde swordswoman. She began counting them, but before she could finish some of them grabbed her body and lifted her into the air, heedless of her yelp or weak struggling.

As she squirmed in their powerful hands, they carried her over to a waiting table. One climbed on top of it and laid back, his cock sticking straight up into the air. Continuing to ignore her wriggling, the Warriors holding Musashi turned her around and set her down straddling him. They held her in place while he lined his cock up with her cunt, not that it was necessary. If the deal for Ritsuka’s safety was still on… well, these Dark Warriors surely couldn’t be any worse than Douman. 

Those thoughts and Musashi’s brief clarity of mind vanished when the one beneath her finished aligning his cock and grabbed her hips, pulling her right down on him. She groaned out as her ravished hole was filled once again, her wet cunt hugging his cock as tightly as it had Douman’s. Her back arched as pleasure once again shot through her body, but she quickly found more hands forcing her to bend forward, her ass once more thrust out behind her. 

Even if Musashi could manage to think in that moment, the Warrior beneath her locked his lips around one of her nipples and began to alternate between sucking and nibbling on it, only further overwhelming the blonde swordswoman’s sensitive body. She gasped out and reached out blindly to balance herself, only to find waiting cocks. Once again, one of the Warriors began to fuck Musashi’s face, while two of his brothers filled Musashi’s delicate but dexterous fingers with their cocks. She gripped them automatically, knowing instinctively what she needed to do with them and being far too gone at this point to stop herself. Closing her eyes, she began to stroke them and tried to relax her throat for the one fucking it, trying to focus on what felt  _ good _ \-- moving her hips in time for the cock in her pussy.

The table creaked beneath them as another Warrior climbed on top of it. She couldn’t look behind herself to see who it was, but she felt him soon enough when he began to probe her asshole with his cock. It was more than ready to take him after Douman’s trailblazing. He worked his way in slower than the monstrous bastard leading them had though, and Musashi found herself beginning to quiver once more. She could feel them --  _ both _ of them, their massive dicks pressing the walls of her ass and cunt together.

As Musashi verged on another orgasm, the remaining Dark Warriors surveyed their options. The blonde was made airtight and her hands were busy stroking the cocks her holes weren’t clinging to. There were few places to stick their cocks, but the black silk stockings covering her feet were certainly inviting. The two of them grabbed one each, putting its sole to their respective cocks and beginning to jerk themselves off while they waited for their turn at another hole.

The second the Warriors in her ass and cunt began to give Musashi a proper pounding, her orgasm hit -- and from that point on, it kept hitting. For all her stamina and endurance in battle, Musashi was completely unprepared for her lewd body’s whorish sensitivity. She moaned again and again around the cock pillaging her throat, every three or four thrusts into her twin holes making her clench and quiver anew. Soon, every ounce of energy she had left went into keeping her hands moving.

It didn’t take any of the Warriors long to cum. First in Musashi’s ass, then in her pussy. The two at her feet jostled their way into place to take their positions, and the two spent Warriors left the building -- only to send in two of the dozens of Warriors waiting outside. Having gone weeks without a woman, they were all too happy to put her feet back to use. The one in her throat came next, spilling another load of cum right into her belly. The recipients of Musashi’s handjobs came right after, literally, their spunk spraying over the sides of her face and body, without any sort of mercy for her wild, dishevelled hair.

They made sure everyone who wanted their chance at Musashi that night got one, but it only took nine men and nine loads of cum to wear her body out from its countless orgasms in that time -- not that her mind was all that present for any of it, completely lost in the ecstasy she would be ashamed of enjoying when she could once again think clearly. 

Only one thing when her vision dimmed and she blacked out entirely; the men using her hands had to wrap their fingers around her much smaller digits and move them for her. By the time the last Warrior finished with Musashi, the blonde swordswoman was a sweaty mess, covered in cum from countless men. They collared her still form and tied her limp body to the table, leaving her there for the night.

**Author's Note:**

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